


When a robin is forgotten

by Azrael_aka_Rineiko



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Deaf Dick Grayson, Dehumanization, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Not Adopted, Dick Grayson is Not Robin, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, M/M, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Slade Wilson, Self Harm, Threats of Violence, Violence, bamf slade wilson, death threat kinda, slade wilson is goodish, small personality split
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21785647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azrael_aka_Rineiko/pseuds/Azrael_aka_Rineiko
Summary: Talon meets an interesting face, why does it feel wrong when ordered to kill
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 206





	1. Birds like masks

**Author's Note:**

> I will probably add to this and for now it's probably going to be a collection of oneshots.

Deathstroke wandered the streets of Gotham, relishing the chase of his target. He enjoyed a challenge once in a while. 

Blood seeped onto pavement. Intestines followed suit sliding into the chilly air. Glassy eyes stared at a scowl. His expression deepened when he saw them. shadowy and fluid beasts. Hungry and growling, they tracked his twitches, they encircled him like a pack of wolves with a lamb. 

Slade was never prey. 

He was dragged through the blinding lights. Gliding through the ancient stone. The rich littered the seats. Less attention was turned to them then their pets. One was different, a dead but interested gaze bore into his mask, adorned by the beast’s uniforms. This one was too much like a similar bird, it didn't hold the same essence of an owl. It lacked the spirit that it should have. It was like the pet lost it's natural spark, it was a pitiful appearance. 

It's gaze left his mask reluctantly switching to its master’s orders.

Unfocused acidic yellow eyes hid behind bird like features. The eyes were lost within the stare of a two-toned mask. It turned away reluctantly. It gazed at its master; it followed the quirk of the lips. The large upward twitches that suggested smug happiness. It awaited the commands. 

Ignoring the murky waters of its emotions that steadily built up, swimming along the walls of its mind. The sweet hook of defiance scraping its skin, boiling its blood, scarring its body. It caused its stare to revert back into the masked one’s, the emotions grew louder becoming a small whirlpool. Old and forgotten feelings growled, tangling within its mind, settling in like venomous vines. Forbidden words followed like thorns digging into its grotesque skin. 

Images swamped its damaged memory. It’s mouth hung ajar hidden from the scrutiny of the owls, protected by the safety of its features. The muted world gave it clarity, as the vicious owls awaited fulfillment. It stared. Talons open. Deadly and ready. It knew its purpose but its ravaged mind fought against the memorized command instead claiming and embracing defiance.

It didn't know why it did, it simply acted.

A soft hum bounced throughout its brutalized body, a gentle warmth captured its skin. A soft care lit its soulless eyes. Its body acted without thought, in a single moment 5 bodies dropped. The two toned mask stared at it, it’s capturers had fallen with precise and dangerous ease. The court raged, feet trampled the ground, desperation and confusion bled into the lime steps as the owls flew into the night. It cocked its head. A foreign amusement crept up its skin. It returned its gaze to its master. Their face was the depiction of rage, the owl hid nothing. 

It knew disappointment, it knew anger, it lived with them both, drowned under both, waves upon waves crashed around it at a time but now it didn’t drown, it flew.

The grandmaster had stalked down the perfectly chiseled stairs. Anger rising with each step he descended. He reached it. Raising a hand, it braced. Pain exploded on its right cheek, vibrating its body. Its features flew right off its face. The weapon was sheathed no longer. 

The lights clashed with its sight. The pain elevated, an agonized screech escaped its lips. The grand owl watched with sinful glee, with the push of another slap. Its eyes connected with the previous prisoner. Throbbing red marred sickly white. Animalistic gold speckled with icy blue met the mask.

The man stood tall. Unburdened by his old position. Looming dangerously over its grandmaster. Fury enveloped the former prisoner. Grandmaster shook, a tremble to his fingers. The owl watched as two large hands wound around his throat. Talons were drenched in blood and hungry for more yet it only observed. 

Its master was being overthrown. The life was sluggishly draining from his body. Words were sputtered but not heard, it watched on. Wicked joy flooding its system. A final beautiful twitch and its former master embraced death. Satisfaction bloomed in its still heart. The man had left the owl to crumble to the chilling metal of the ground. 

The swift change of emotions almost made it flinch. He was enraged no more, rather a sad tinged happiness claimed his body. A soft click and his face was revealed as the mask rattled against the floor. A single eye stared two down. White hair was pulled up in a short ponytail. A small warm smile graced his features. His steel grey eye locked onto it’s face. 

Too many emotions to handle or decipher. 

It snapped its gaze to the ground. Anxiety and confusion prickled its skin like maggots. The feeling intensified. Clicking its claws together it scraped it’s armor. Ripping apart his feathers, it tore into the flesh below. Its unneeded breath was baited. The scratching dug deeper. Wounds went unhealed as the claws remained in its bloodied cycle.

In a rapid and sudden movement, its hands unleashed its grip on its scraped bones. Two large muscular arms trapped it against a warm chest. Face softly cradled against cold armor. It could feel a heartbeat, an anxious peace steadied its worries, a scent startled it. An extremely calming scent, it chose to give in. Its rigid body loosened underneath the overwhelming care, letting its defenses fall and it’s insecurities melt. 

Talon found safety, a foreign warmth. It didn’t intend on letting go.


	2. fliers fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bird and bat clash, kinda. Slade's kinda the mediator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't care much for the name, but it's 1 am so woo hoo.

The shadow wandered in, a breath escaped him as he roused from the stool and Slade scowled with the ruined peace and unrestrained tension.

“Batman.” His bird tensed, the word whispered in fear, trained, known, fear. Slade hated it, he was quick to reassure him. Winding a hand on the back on his bird’s neck.

“Pretty bird, don’t worry he’s a mere dress up, nothing you couldn’t take on.” Dick steps backward out of alarm, his training only obscuring his panic. Slade’s words and grip doing nothing to appease his anxiety.

“Batman.” He growls lowly and relocates his rejected grip to his bird’s shoulder, gently squeezing it as a reminder of their safety. He itches to slice owls up, he wants to rip into them again, he wants to destroy their bases and meager parties. That grandmaster was unfortunately the only one who had been in his grasp. Slade regrets letting so many owls fly that night.

He roars in his mind, indignation and frustration creating a whirlwind in his mind. How dare they, they’d showed such open fear to this brooding man and didn’t expect it to show on their weapons, they forgot that observational learning existed, that fear breeds fear, that without words, others would pick up on it, follow suit or expose it. They were so stupid. Slade was content that they weren’t going to be in Gotham for much longer.

Calming his riled thoughts, he purrs his words out like a content lion, after a finished feast.

“Bruce, what is your business here?” The vigilant stalks forward like a child beginning a tantrum. Stomping his feet as an allusion to intimidation, it certainly doesn’t work on Slade. He disdains that he can feel the flinch rack through his bird’s body. Slade allows a thin smile on his gruff face, perhaps relishing in the small flicker of hope in his bird’s blue eyes.

“You know why I’m here, Deathstroke.” Slade comfortably leans back, making his pretty bird lean back with him as he casually comments

“I do not have a clue to what you allude to.” The dark knight steps forward, his steps echoing like thunder, as he seethes at him, his black gauntlets accusatorily jabbing at his bird. Slade’s smile flees as his frown carves deep in his face.

“To refresh your memory, you have a talon as your company.” As to mask his distaste for the deary situation. He gasps, and draws a dramatic a hand over his heart.

“You act like they aren’t human beings, with free will.” Batman retorts like the cold machine he is.

“They are assassins for a dangerous organization trained from birth to follow.” Dick makes a squeak of protest but under the bat’s glare. He shrivels, Slade mocks. No one can threaten his bird.

“Like your soldiers.” Batman stiffens, his hidden eyes flicking to the merc. His muscles bunching as he growls in irritation.

Slade braces for an attack, prepared to kick Bruce’s ass when he launches but Talon beats him to the punch.

And he’s not sure if he’s thrilled by his bird’s protectiveness or soured by the lack of punching the robotic and arrogant billionaire.

He decides his bird looks pretty, ass up and muscles revealed as his claws are posed, on a delicate throat, ready to gut his enemy as Bruce gapes like a constipated fish.

The one thing, Dick cannot stand. Are people attacking his master. And no matter how scared he is. How terrified he knows to be. He can’t let batman hurt Slade. Slade the only good person he knows, the only one apart from his foggy parents to ever show care. Genuine unbridled kindness.

Its talons settle around the man’s throat. Its lips drawn in a snarl as its teeth are openly bared. Its eyes fluorescently glow. Protective, hateful, gold pierce through flimsy black fabric and stricken shocked blue.

“Slade.” The dress up growls trapped beneath a hissing assassin. Dick does not like such dismissiveness, like he himself isn’t enough, that his master is the only one worth addressing. It does not care. But Dick argues against the encompassing mass of anger that is Talon. Slade told him he was worth attention too; Slade was always right. The batman should be focusing on him; he is the one holding him down. He continues to glare at the shadow of Gotham, her dark knight. It does not argue for the job is still succeeding, regardless of petty thoughts.

Sickly sweet, words coated in honey and tipped with venom, Slade relaxes against the benchtop. 

“So Brucie, you know of the court and neglect to deal out punishment?” The knight grumbles through he does not struggle. Slade almost pouts, he loves the shows, his bird puts on.

“You let an underground society poison Gotham, even better you help it by keeping its enemies in their reach and their throats exposed for the slitting of the court’s choosing.” Slade narrows his eyes as he frowns.

“And you’d come after me and my partner for his past, that’s not very nice, I’d say you’ve done something very naughty.” He crosses his arms with a small huff and mockingly states. Leisurely, he gestures to Dick, still comfortably if not agitatedly perched atop the dark knight.

“I could ask my bird to let you go, you could pray and beg for his mercy, with the promise of forgiveness and immunity from his past crimes which, you have detailed were, under duress.” He pauses for the dramatics as he steps closer to tower over him, his smile as sharp as a shark’s. 

“Or I could let him end you and your precious mission, the dark knight falls and Gotham never recovers, your silly little soldiers be a mess without your grim guidance, Gotham would fall to deep, dark despair, well deeper and darker. Of course, that’s conditional on if the Joker doesn’t blow her and everyone in her up in a hissy fit of grief, you know how he gets when your attention’s drawn elsewhere.” He locks his glare onto the confined man, sneering at the fact that dress up had caught the party boy up in this.

Bruce hated to admit it. But he was very outmatched, even if he could beat the Talon, he’d just have another super assassin with a healing ability to defeat. It was an annoyingly bleak outcome for him.

And he couldn’t leave his mantle to his boys. None of them were ready, if they’d ever be.

Unfortunately, he had to submit.

He could at least trust Slade to keep the Talon in line. If not out of homicidal trouble. The talon would have someone better than a cruel secret society to serve. Slade wasn’t much better in his book.

He grunted before spitting out his words.

“Fine, let me go.” The talon cocked his head before glancing at Slade for confirmation. Who in turn stared sternly at Batman. Obviously expecting more. He grinded his teeth before continuing.

“I won’t try to throw you in jail, you’re free for past crimes, Talon.” Slade nodded and spoke clearly.

“Good enough I suppose, let him up will you.” Dick’s conflicted for a few tedious seconds before, Talon’s screaming to obey, makes him tensely step off the man and flip onto Slade’s shoulders. Keeping himself perfectly poised on the man’s broad shoulders. He slides his thighs around Slade’s neck and bends his spine, letting his head laze on the man’s fluffy white hair, meekly he strokes his claws through the man’s hair, feeling the tension flee his body with the familiarity of the action.

Smugly Slade smiles, watching as the Bat observes them with disgust before barreling back into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made another one, hope you liked it. I have zero promises for any kind of schedule. sorry.


End file.
